The Choices We Made
by Missus-E
Summary: Hermione chose to run away from her life before 7th year. Draco chose not to kill Dumbledore. Hmm, I wonder what happens when these two meet in Diagon Alley one night? ;)
1. The First Steps

I.

"Obliviate" Hermione whispered, pointing her wand at the two people in the world who had stuck to her through every single hardship and achievement, every bully and friend. The two people who had loved her even when the had found out what she was. The two she'd learn to count on during the years at Hogwarts. She removed herself from her parents' mind, quickly and quietly, as if she were never there.

With that Hermione, formerly Hermione _Granger_ walked out- wearing a pair of skinny jeans, a long-sleeved black shirt, and a sweater. Carrying only a handbag and her wand- into the world. The world that she knew, would be no more. In the world she'd known, she should've been going to complete her seventh year at Hogwarts, or be helping her friends defeat Lord Voldemort. But that world was no more to Hermione, she walked on not shedding a single tear.

II.

Hermione apparated into Knockturn Alley, where she knew she could get a start on money and hopeful some insight to the ins and out to Knockturn and Diagon Alley. She walked with her head up into Borgin and Burkes, holding something that she was sure Mr. Borgin would enjoy famously.

She walked out to what appeared to be a check-out and placed her prize in front of Borgin's greedy eyes.

"What's this?" asked Borgin.

"It's a potion book." stated Hermione.

"Well now I can see that! What purpose do you have of bringing it here? I don't need a bloody potion book! What's a pretty little girl like you doing in my shop?" asked Borgin.

Hermione growled. "I'm not here to sell you just some _potion_ book." she said, "This book belonged to Severus Snape. There are many _many_ spells in here. Some just useful, but some dangerous, for he created them himself. There're many helpful hint to potions, and I'm willing to negotiate with you Mr. Borgin. So just help me out here and you'll get this little book for a very nice price."

Borgin raised an eyebrow, he was impressed, very few customers stayed long after he'd turned them down, never a female- let alone a girl.

"Alright miss. I'll take it. Name your price."

"5 galleons" she said.

Borgin's eyes widened, "Five? You can't be serious." he started laughing, " You'll have to do better then that little lady." he said wagging a finger.

Hermione pursed her lips, "Fine, 4 galleons and 2 sickles."

"Done." said Borgin, handing her the money and snatching the book. "This was a one time thing girl. That was from pity, from now on, you're on your own."

III.

Hermione walked slowly in a dark alley between two buildings. ''You're on your own." those words kept crawling through Hermione's mind. Like a slithering snake. Suddenly, the reality of the situation found itself in Hermione's mind. She really was on her own. She had no one to turn to. She was alone.

Hermione crashed down to the ground. With her face in her hands, she started sobbing. After a minute she heard soft footsteps of another approaching. "Granger?" a soft voice asked.

Hermione stiffened. She knew that voice. "I'm not a Granger anymore Malfoy." she said, wiping her tears and standing to face him.

Malfoy looked worse than he had in sixth year. His face was made of mostly bone and flesh. His hair was no longer styled back, instead, unkept and dirty. He still wore tailored suits, but now they looked as though they'd spent the night crumpled on the floor. The dark circles under his eyes, and on his left forearm-

Hermione gasped. "Malfoy? What happened?"

The Dark Mark on Malfoy's left arm was bleeding. It was as if someone had dug their nails into the flesh and dragged them down the Mark. It was horrifying, yet beautiful. The blood and ink matched each other, too well.

Malfoy looked down at his arm and he looked surprised for a moment, as if he hadn't known the blood had been there at all. He masked it almost immediately to the composed face Hermione had grown to know too well in the last year. Malfoy took a dark blue handkerchief out of his pocket and quickly wiped the blood away, his face tinted with a little pink, as if he'd been embarrassed to be seen like that.

"It's none of your bussiness Granger."

Hermione scowled, "I said, I'm _not_ a Granger anymore."

Malfoy raised an eyebrow, "Well then, I guess we're in a similar situation, _Hermione_. I'm not a Malfoy no more than you're a Granger."

He gave Hermione a moment to let that information sink in. Then she said, "But, how?"

Hermione expected him to glare at her and say something insulting, but he just let out a small, sad sigh, ran his fingers through his hair- messing it up even more- and said, "My father disowned me when I refused to kill Dumbledore. My mother tried to convince him not to, but he said I was a disappointment to the Malfoy line and had no right to stay in his house any longer." Malfoy winced as he said the words, but continued, "My mother gave me a small bag of money and sent me here, to Knockturn Alley."

"It kind of looks like we just want out of this world, doesn't it?" Hermione asked.

"Maybe, but that's not my point here Grang- Hermione." he said.

"Then what is?"

 _Draco_ bit his lower lip as he asked, "What were you, Hermione doing? Crying here? In Knockturn Alley of all places? Not being a Granger?" his voice barely above a whisper.

Hermione had to dig her nails into her hand so she wouldn't start crying, "I obliviated my parents. I made it so it was like I'd never been there at all." she couldn't help it now, she leaned against the brick wall as the tears slid down her face, "I ran away Draco. I ran away from it. All of it, Voldemort, the Death-"

When Hermione spoke the word 'Voldemort', she'd heard a crack a few paces behind Malfoy. She watched as Malfoy's eyes widened in realization.

"Snatchers." he whispered, fear in his eyes as he grabbed hold of her wrist and apparated them both out of Knockturn Alley.


	2. Safehouse

IV.

Draco turned to face Hermione, she was looking around the room, her face confused and wet with tears.

"Malfoy… where are we?" she asked.

Draco locked eyes Hermione, "It's Draco now. And we're in France. It's a small flat where my mother and I used to come for vacation. Nobody's been here for years. It was the only safe place I could think of. "

Hermione's eyes widened when she the small picture frame decorated with seashells, the one Draco had made when he was 7. Inside was a picture of him and his mother at the beach, they were both laughing at some joke he'd made.

Draco watched as the girl ran around the room, gathering all the pictures in her arms. She laid them on the ground, one after another, before she spoke.

"These boys… they're all you?" she asked.

Draco cleared his throat before answering, "Yes, but it was a different me, a happier, secure me."

"A younger one too."

Draco let out half a smile, after all, Hermione was the brightest witch of their age. "Yes, that too."

V.

Hermione got up and went to the restroom. When she came back, she was holding a wet washcloth. Draco shivered when she took his left arm, and gently began wiping the blood away. When she finished, she looked at the small, crescent shaped scars and asked, "Why?"

Draco looked away before he answered, "I… I didn't- couldn't look anywhere near it. It- it sickens me, to be a part of something so… so evil, and horrible, and- and ignorant to what they're doing. Who they're killing and what bonds they are tearing apart."

Hermione let out her breath. She hadn't realized Draco's thoughts could turn in that direction, the hateful boy Hermione knew was lost now. Slowly, she took his face in her hands, and turned it so he would look at her. His soft, cold skin sent shivers down her spine, but she didn't let go. Surprisingly, Draco did not protest. When his eyes met hers, she couldn't even remember what she was about to say, his beautiful eyes took her breath away. His grey eyes flickered, the fire inside them gone, all that was left was a wisp of smoke, which swirled around intensely.

When he blinked, the smoke was gone, Hermione let go of him, and she could think again. "Draco… you do realize it's not you, right? You're not the one responsible for all this damage. You're… you're innocent Draco." as Hermione spoke those words, she realized she actually believed them. Yes, Draco had been a brat to her during the first four years of school. But now, he was just as scared and frightened as any other witch or wizard. And somehow, in her mind, that made Draco innocent.

Draco looked as though his heart had broken, and when he spoke, his voice was hoarse, "How can you say that? After all I've done to you, how could you even think of me as innocent? Why would you Hermione?" he rasped.

Hermione shook her head, a tiny bit amused. "One day, you'll see. You will realize why you, of all people are innocent. And when that day comes Draco, you better make sure to tell me about it."

VI.

Draco heard a loud, growling noise, Hermione was hungry. She hid her stomach with her hand and blushed madly, making her look annoyingly attractive. "Are you hungry?" he asked softly.

"Yes, starving."

Draco nodded and went to the tiny kitchen in the back. He looked around and realized there wasn't much food to eat, only canned or preserved foods. He took some canned peaches, a box of crackers, and some chocolate back to Hermione.

When he arrived, he found Hermione curled up on a couch with a white, fluffy blanket. He pulled back a little when he realized what blanket it was. Hermione must have seen his expression, because she asked, "What?"

Draco stared at the blanket, "Nothing, it's just…" he sighed, "It was my blanket as a kid. It's- it used to help me when I got nightmares."

Hermione bit her lower lip, "Oh, I… sorry Draco. Do you want it back?" she asked, holding out to him.

"No, it's fine. You can keep it. Aren't you hungry?" Draco nodded at his full hands.

Hermione rushed to help him, "Sorry, yes, I'm starving."

They together in silence, letting the sound of chewing fill the quiet. Draco bit a corner off some dark chocolate, he really loved dark chocolate, any kind of chocolate really.

Hermione thought as they ate. This new Malfoy- right _Draco_ -was confusing her. It was like he'd decided to grow up.

VII.

Hermione suddenly snapped her head up, "What's the date?" she asked Draco.

Draco looked at her, "It's the 6th of September. Why?" he asked, the smoke in his grey eyes spiraling around.

"Oh." Hermione said, "My birthday's 6 days away then." she said.

Draco cocked his head, "Oh? And you'll be turning 17 I presume?"

Hermione shook her head shyly, "Actually 16."

Draco gaped at her, "But then you'd have to be in the year below us." he exclaimed.

Hermione smirked, "Figured that out huh?" she sighed, "Thing is, before we even got the letter telling my parents that I was a witch…" Hermione paused.

Draco looked at her, the smoke in his eyes flecked with fire, twinkling with curiosity, urging her to go on.

"I had already known. I knew I was a witch."

Draco raised a single, perfectly groomed eyebrow, "Oh?"

"I had a friend, Jonah Grey. He was a wizard in the year above us. Once, during summer while we were playing by the river, I had accidentally started a fire on some weeds. He took me to his step-mother and it was her who had taught me about the whole other world that lived next to us.

"I begged her to teach me and she did. So basically, it was kind of like I'd started school 2 years early. Since I already knew all the requirements, Dumbledore said I'd attend before my year. I bragged about it to the muggle kids, I remember." said Hermione.

"Hermione…" Draco reached out and took her hands, "I…" Draco sighed, "I'm sorry. For calling you a mudblood. Mudblood is a stupid, stupid thing that purebloods came up with a long time ago to insult muggles, not even the muggleborns! Anyone of magical blood is our kin. It's just that the purebloods hate on the muggles so much. The first time I called you a mudblood, I was- I was just trying to prove to myself that I was pureblood. I always thought I didn't fit in with the other pureblood children, being cruel just came so easy to them but me…"

Draco looked down, as if ashamed to admit such a thing, "Anyway- I just wanted to apologize for that."

Hermione looked at Draco, " _Who are you and what have you done to the cold, distant boy I thought I knew?"_ she thought wonderingly. Draco held her gaze steadily, his beautiful eyes boring down on Hermione.

"Draco-" Hermione sighed, "It's fine Draco, complete and utterly fine. I think you've already proved yourself more than enough during the past year."

Draco smiled sadly, "I don't deserve your forgiveness Hermione… but thank you."


End file.
